Chapter 4: “I Will Make Your Life Hell”

Clara's POV.

My heart violently raced as I stood there staring at the contract.

The document blurred before my eyes as hot angry tears welled up. In that brief moment, I couldn’t stop thinking about my father, who was still lying helplessly in the state hospital bed. He was the only family I had left after my mother died from cancer.

The thought of him dying with his legacy fully destroyed because of me was even more unbearable than marrying this cold, ruthless man for a year….

“I hate you, Julian Cross,” I spat bitterly. “With every fiber of my being.”

I picked up the pen with trembling fingers.

“I will make your life a living hell, Julian,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Every single day. I promise.”

I signed.

The pen scratched loudly against the paper, sealing my fate.

“Good girl.”

Julian’s smile was slow, dark, and full of victory as he took the signed contract from my hand.

“Welcome to your new life, fake wife. Tomorrow, your nightmare truly begins.”

Then his gaze shifted past me toward Markus.

“And as for you… traitor.”

Julian’s voice boomed across the room.

“Call the police and have an arrest team waiting downstairs. Make sure he never sees daylight again.”

Markus went completely pale in an instant.

“No! Please, Mr. Cross!” he begged, thrashing wildly beneath the armed guards. “I have a family!”

Guilt tore through my chest, and before I could stop myself, I dropped to my knees in front of Julian, pressing my hands desperately against his wet trousers as I looked up at him, rainwater still clinging to my lashes.

“Stop. It was all me. I forced him into this. Punish me instead, but please let him go.”

Julian stared down at me for three long, agonizing seconds. His blue eyes darkened as he looked at my soaked, pleading form. Then something flickered across his face. Surprise, maybe even reluctant respect.

“Cancel the arrest,” he ordered the guards coldly. “Fire him. Then throw him out.” Then he turned his gaze toward Markus.”If I ever see your face again, I will make sure you disappear for good.”

The guards released him. Markus scrambled to his feet and ran out without daring to look back.

Then Julian roughly pulled me up to my feet in one stride, his strong hand locking around my waist.

“Let’s go home, fake wife,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dark possession.

He guided me out, his palm heavy and warm on the small of my back as we entered the private elevator.

The ride down to the office lobby felt endless. Neither of us spoke to each other.

When the elevator doors finally opened, Julian led me outside.

A sleek midnight-black Rolls-Royce Phantom waited at the curb, its engine purring softly like a predator at rest.

The passenger door of the Rolls-Royce clicked open. Standing on the wet curb, I looked at the dark red leather interior. My wet dress clung heavily to my skin.

“I need to go to my apartment first,” I said, squeezing a handful of wet hair over the curb. “I need to pack my things.”

Julian did not look up immediately. His eyes followed the water dripping from my hair down to my heels on the wet pavement, then slowly traveled back up the damp, transparent fabric of my dress before finally settling on my face.

“You have no need for anything in that apartment. Everything will be provided for you.”

I gripped the open door of the car so hard my knuckles turned white.

“I am not your doll,” I spat. “I can take care of myself. No, thank you. Just take me back to my apartment. I need to pack my stuff if we are doing this.”

Julian turned his head toward the windshield, ignoring the edge in my voice.

“Tomorrow afternoon, I am taking you shopping. You can buy whatever you need. No limits.”

He looked back, his gaze pinning me right where I stood.

“But you are not bringing garbage into my penthouse. Get in the car, Clara.”

I ground my teeth and kept my chin up as I slid into the car. I shifted into the far corner of the leather seat and pressed my back against the door panel, leaving a clear three feet of space between us.

Julian climbed inside behind me. The heavy door shut with a solid thunk, and the driver pulled away from the curb.

Manhattan’s neon signs blurred into red streaks across the tinted glass.

The air inside the car smelled of expensive leather and damp clothes.

And every time the tires caught a turn on the wet streets, Julian’s thigh brushed against mine, sending an unwelcome jolt through me. I locked my arms across my chest and stared at the floor mats, trying to control my breathing.

A sharp sound broke the silence inside the moving car.

I glanced sideways.

The man who had spent the last few hours backing me into a corner until I signed his contract was now slumped against the leather seat, casually scrolling through TikTok.

On the screen, a white tabby cat misjudged a leap and tumbled off a kitchen counter. Julian swiped up to another video of a dancing dog. His mouth twitched into a small, quiet smile.

“You just blackmailed me into marriage, and you’re watching cat videos?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Julian kept his eyes on the screen.

“Even monsters need entertainment, Clara.” His voice was low, a quiet rumble in the small space. “Or is that not what you’re calling me in your head?”

He swiped to the next video before answering.

“Besides, you will learn soon enough that I simply take what I want,” Julian said, a small smile still lingering on his face. “And that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the simple things.”

His palm settled high on my thigh, just above my knee. It felt heavy and warm through the thin fabric of my dress. I slid an inch closer to the door, but his fingers tightened, holding me right where I was.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

“You’ve said that already,” he murmured. His thumb tapped a slow, absent rhythm against my skin. “Just keep saying it. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”